


Flu Season (Dwight/Reader Oneshot)

by ReaderOneshotsByLucy



Series: TWD x Reader Short Oneshots [19]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Accidental Person Acquisition, Alexandria Safe-Zone, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Basically just Phantom of the Opera tbh, CREEPY SIMON Y'ALL, Canonical Character Death, Creepy, Cute Platonic Reader/Rick, Depressing, Dwight is a jerk but he's cute af so??, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Gross Men Being Gross, Horror, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Kissing, Making Out, NO rape, Negan is my fave to write not gonna lie, Not Happy, Past Character Death, Past Dwight/Sherry, Plot Twists, Post-Episode: s07e08 Hearts Still Beating, Psychological Horror, Reader is Daryl's Best Friend, Reader-Insert, Scary, Sick Character, Somewhat Based on the Film/Book 'Room', The Sanctuary (Walking Dead), fluffy af, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-07 21:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8816134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReaderOneshotsByLucy/pseuds/ReaderOneshotsByLucy
Summary: Dwight finds you sick and injured while on a run. Even though he wants to take you home to Alexandria, has no other choice but to bring you back to Negan at the Sanctuary. Negan has big plans for you, but Dwight is willing to go through a lot of trouble to keep you safe from his boss, and his barbed-wire wife.(Female Reader)(Written for a friend. She's basically my wife so, I guess I Dwight can borrow her.)(NO RAPE. Just Non-Con situations, but NO rape. I refuse to write that.)(Based somewhat on 'Phantom of the Opera' and 'Room'. What an odd crossover.)(The longest /reader fic I've done so far, so sorry this took a while)





	

You didn't remember passing out. You didn't remember getting so dizzy that you tripped in the tall grass in the woods. You most certainly didn't remember getting picked up and carried back to a strange building full of horrible people. But here you were, tucked into bed as your eyes slowly adjusted to their new surroundings. You were alone in the small room, that held only a chair and the bed you were currently sitting up in. You shook your head, desperate to wake up, but you felt hot again and your muscles failed you. You dropped back down against the pillows at your back, too weak to even fully sit up. You felt the panic coursing through your scalding veins, the blood beating rapidly in your neck. This place didn't feel right, it wasn't safe, you could sense it. You distinctly remembered being sick, some kind of flu that reminded you of what members of your group had at the prison, though maybe not as severe. But you had decided to brave your illness and go on your run anyway, despite feeling so hot you thought you were going to die. Judith needed supplies and it was your turn to go out and scavenge for them. If you had told Rick how sick you were, he would have gladly gone himself, but he was incredibly busy in Hilltop, about to head back to Alexandria, and you didn't want to bother him. So you took off on your own, got even sicker and quickly passed out in the forest before you could even make it to a scavenging place.

The doorknob turned then, and your entire sense of being came to a skidding halt, your breath hitched in your throat. _Anyone_ could walk through that door, it could be your own personal savior, or a monster, like that horrible man from...before. A man walked into the room, slowly, cautiously and you tensed up. Your fever was starting to make you delirious, and you couldn't really focus on him. He was skinny and blond and his hair covered one half of his face, but why was he hiding? Did he not want you to see him because that would make you a witness? Why didn't he just wear a mask? You immediately looked down, afraid that if you saw his face, he'd most likely have to kill you.

"Hi." he said, almost nervously, but he caught himself with a clear of his throat. "I'm supposed to check on you." You kept your eyes down, this _definitely_ was a bad place. You refused to reply, the words were seemingly caught in your throat and couldn't quite make it out. "They said you were pretty sick." He sounded so familiar, but the sickness was too bad, it was screwing with your head.

"What do you want with me?" you finally asked, shakily, your nerves were starting to flare up and you tried not to speak too much. Fear was weakness. Weakness got you killed. You had seen it happen too many times. The man looked over at you, face still hidden, and he shook his head.

"I don't want nothin' from you." he said. "You should probably be thanking me." You slipped down further under the blanket.

"Why?" you said, your voice felt heavy and weak, you struggled just to form a single syllable.

"I'm the one who dragged you here, you almost died." he said, his tone wavering back and forth. Forceful assertion into kindness and back again.

"You-you didn't have to." you managed to say. He took a step forward, but stayed close to the door.

"I wasn't about to let you die. Besides, it's the rules." You let your eyes slowly turn to look over at him again, but were still cautious enough not to look at his face.

"Who's rules?" you asked. He took the step back into the doorway, ignoring your question entirely.

"I should go." he said, and left as quickly as he had arrived. You felt the heat rising up into your face and your eyes fluttered closed. You slept for another fifteen hours before you opened them again.

When you did, a doctor was standing over you. He had been setting out your medicine for when you awoke, but quickly rushed to your side when you started to shift around and wake up. He looked startled, like he was in some form of trouble. He said nothing to you as he helped you sit up. He gave you the pills and a glass of water and left the room. You hesitated, but took the pills anyway. If they were going to kill you, they wouldn't have gone to so much trouble to save you. Medicine was scarce these days, they wouldn't waste it on a potential victim. Besides, you doubted that you were going to be poisoned, they probably had something more creative in mind if they _were_ going to kill you. You reached out and set the empty glass on a table beside the bed, it hadn't been there the first time you woke up, but it was there now. The table was the only new addition to the small room, made up of grey bricks and the door. No windows. Which meant that you must be deep in the building, not in a room against an outer wall. They had you hidden, buried. You suddenly remembered how much trouble you were in. Minutes after the doctor had left, there was a knock at the door. Three slow, paced out knocks. The door opened and you nearly screamed in terror, if you hadn't suddenly gone paralyzed, you would have screamed. Your heart stopped beating, only for a moment, but you could _feel_ the stop, how the oxygen started to leave your body from the lapse in beat. You lost all feeling in your arms and legs, completely powerless and unable to move. Those cold, dead eyes stared at you, the all too familiar horror that shined in them. And then he smiled down at you, he _remembered_ you. How could he have forgotten? You had been his favorite.

"Well, well, well." he said, swinging that ugly bat around, slow and distracting in a circle. "What do we fuckin' have here?" You tried to move, you tried so hard to just shift, even the slightest bit, to remind yourself that you were still alive. That you hadn't died on the spot from fear. "I just can't goddamn get rid of you people, can I? First my little serial killer breaks in, and now _you_? I feel like I just hit the fuckin' _jack-pot_!"

"Stay away from me." you mumbled, your fever had nearly broken, but you were raging inside, hot to the touch. This monster had murdered your family, your friends, right in front of your eyes. Why, _why_ had that blond man brought you here? Negan burst into laughter, deep and bellowing. The laugh of someone very much in charge. He set Lucille down on the table next to you, the barbed end only inches from your head. You nearly whimpered in fear, the same instrument used to bash your friend's heads in was _so close_ to your own. Negan finally stopped laughing when he noticed just how scared you really were.

"I'm not gonna fuckin' hurt ya. _She_ might," he said, pointing to Lucille. "But I think I can talk her out of it, right darlin'?" he smiled down at the weapon he called his wife, as if he expected her to answer. You kept your eyes straight ahead of you, refusing to look at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the fear in your eyes. He feeds on the fear, and you were more than happy to let him starve. "Is this about that...ah what was his name? That skinny little traitor fuck? Spencer!" he remembered with a rush of enthusiasm. "Were you two...together? Did I make _that_ mistake again?" You shook your head. You weren't worried about Spencer, not anymore. He was never a factor in your worry, but _Rick_ is. Rick was always a factor. But what you _were_ worried about, was the situation at hand, with that wooden bitch so close to your skull.

"No," you mumbled. "We weren't." Negan chuckled and knelt down next to the bed. You could feel the arrogance radiating from him, a certain feeling about his presence made your head swim with ill rage. 

" _Good_." he said, low and dragged out. "That punk didn't fuckin' deserve you." Your blood ran cold, the sudden chill mixed with your diminishing fever made you nauseous, and his sickening smile wasn't helping. He reached out and gently put his hand against the side of your face, you flinched down at his touch. "Feelin' better?" he asked. You nodded and he brushed your hair back. He was gentle and loving and something about his sudden affection just wasn't right. This was the man who bashed people's brains in, and enjoyed it, definitely not love interest material.

"Yes." you whispered, the heat was rising in you, the fear was leaving, but you were so angry that you couldn't move. Negan stood up and pressed a kiss on the top of your head. He retrieved Lucille, dragging her along the table to that the sharp wire screeched against the wood. You turned towards the noise in instinctive fear, glancing at the notch Rosita took out of the bat with her only bullet. Negan walked back to the door, opened it, then turned back to look at you one last time.

"I hope you're feelin' better in time for the wedding, it takes a lot of strength to walk down that fuckin' aisle." he smiled that Cheshire Cat grin, wide and menacing before leaving, carefully closing the door behind him. You let out a breath you didn't realize you had been holding, letting the tears freely fall from your rapidly blinking eyes. Your hands covered over your mouth as the full realization started hitting you. You were meant to be Negan's new wife.

You remembered what Daryl had said at Hilltop before you left on your run, after Jesus had brought him back. Daryl had talked about a lot of things, mostly to you and Rick. He stayed silent about a lot of things too, though you never pressured him into talking, you did however remember what he said about the wives. Negan had a _lot_ of them, collecting them like shiny trophies to be displayed all over the Sanctuary. That's what you were going to become, if Negan got what he wanted.

Negan had taken quite the interest in you in the line up. Before he killed your friends, he had remarked about how much he wanted to take you out of the line and bring you with him. But then Abraham died, and as he was about to pull you out of line, Daryl flew up like a bullet and went after him. Daryl had saved your life, but you only wish he was here to save you again. But then Glenn took the blame, Daryl got taken away, and now you're here. That stupid goddamn butterfly effect, it seemed to get you in the end every time. You started to shrink down under the blanket again, desperate for the tears to stop. Then you heard the footsteps, slowly coming up to the door and if your blood could have rushed colder you would have frozen solid. The door opened again, but it wasn't Negan.

"I brought your medicine." the man said. It was the same person from before, only you hadn't recognized him then, in your delirious fever. Dwight walked over to the table and set down a bottle of pills. He still wouldn't look at you, keeping his face hidden from your view with his hair. You tried to subtly wipe your tears away, still afraid of your own fear. 

"Thanks." you said numbly.

"For saving you or for the medicine?" Dwight asked, standing still in front of the table. You shrugged.

"You didn't save me." you said. He turned slightly towards you but still avoided showing his face. "You brought me to the slaughterhouse."

"You would've died out there." he snapped. "You're welcome." He left the medicine on the table, took the empty glass and headed back towards the door. "I'll bring you some more water later, when it's time for your next dose." Dwight left, slamming the door on his way out. You heard a key turn as he locked you in the room.

A few hours later he came back, in a seemingly better mood, as he set your glass of water on the table. You reached out for the bottle of pills but Dwight was quick to grab them first. He handed you the pills and you took them. He was about to leave again, but you stopped him. You had a lot of time to think about things in his absence.

"I'm sorry." you said, his back was to you as he reached out for the doorknob. "You probably didn't have any other choice right? You had to bring me here. I'm sorry I snapped at you." Maybe kindness wouldn't be taken as weakness. Maybe this one was understanding, whereas his boss just...wasn't. Dwight sighed and opened the door, he almost replied but decided against it. This time, he didn't lock the door.

He returned later that night with your dinner and set it down on the table.

"When can I leave?" you asked.

"You don't get to." Dwight mumbled.

"Then why didn't you take me back to Hilltop? To Alexandria? Where my people could find me? They could have taken care of me, there-"

"I didn't think, okay?" he snapped, finally turning to fully face you. You hadn't really seen his face during the line up, you were too busy trying not to die, too busy watching your friends die. But you saw him now, and the harsh burn on the side of his face, it was mostly healed up but looked like it still hurt. "I'm sorry I didn't take you back to your people, but sometimes you just don't get your way, all right?!" You flinched back, not because of the burn, but because of how scary he sounded, like he wanted to punch something and you were the closest object to take a swing at. But Dwight didn't realize that, and he certainly wasn't going to hit you. Assuming that you were scared of his face, he promptly turned back around and left. This time, he did lock the door. You manged to stand up for the first time since you had arrived. You stumbled to the door and threw your full weight at it, but the steel door wasn't going anywhere. And neither were you.

Dwight came back one last time that night, to retrieve your dinner tray. You had drifted off, but awoke when the key turned in the lock. He closed the door behind him and ignored you as he took the tray.

"How long?" you asked without looking at him. He paused and set the tray back down.

"What do you mean?"

"How long until the wedding?" Dwight's entire expression changed, his tone, everything. He turned his head to you, but kept his eyes down.

"You don't have to go through with it." he said quietly. "I wouldn't blame you." Your head whipped around and you glared at him.

"Like a have a choice?!" you cried. "Did the other wives have a choice? Did my _friends_ have a choice, Dwight? When it comes to that-that _tyrant_ , none of us have a choice." Dwight took a step away from you, too stunned to reply. What was he supposed to say to that? You were right, he _knew_   that you were right. His hand absentmindedly went up to his scar. He didn't have a choice either.

"You think you're marrying _him_?" Dwight asked. You nodded, chest heaving in rage. Dwight shook his head. "No, you got that all wrong." You furrowed your eyebrows, staring back at him in blank confusion.

"What?" you asked, breathless.

"You're marrying _me_." he said, after a brief hesitation. "And I can understand why you wouldn't want that."

"Why would he do that?" you asked, sitting up in bed until you were sitting on your knees.

"Because I've climbed the ranks. I'm only two rungs below Negan on the goddamn ladder. He's been buggin' the hell out of me to find a wife, and I didn't want to. But then I found you and he got all these ideas in his head. He wanted you for himself, but decided to throw the ugly dog a bone. And a girl like you wouldn't want anything to do with a guy like me, and I'm sorry." Dwight took a deep breath and sat down on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He didn't mean to unload all that on you, but he needed to let the emotions out. You hesitated at first, but slowly climbed out of your blankets. You swung your legs to the side of the bed and sat beside him. He knew you were close to him, but he didn't dare move.

"Why would you say that?" you asked. Dwight sat back up and looked over at you. The meanness was gone, and the person he was before the world died had made a return.

"Look at me." he said, pointing at the burn. " _Really_ look at me. How do you feel about that? Would you marry that? I almost scared you to death when you saw it."

"No, you didn't." you admitted. "You yelled at me, I was scared. But I'm not scared away by...this." you said, putting your hand up to his face. "I was still scared after...well, after _he_ was here. I'm not scared of you."

"I'm sorry you don't have a choice." he mumbled. "I shouldn't have brought you here." Your hand drifted down to rest on his shoulder.

"You were right about before." you said. "I would have died out there."

"You were right, too. I should have taken you home. But your people would have probably killed me the minute I walked in with you. It would have looked like I killed you, you were out cold." Dwight explained. You suddenly realized why he did it, why he brought you here. As scared as you were of being in the Sanctuary, he was just as scared of being alone in Hilltop, or Alexandria. He was right about that too, your groups would have eaten him alive faster than a walker would have.

"Why didn't you just leave me, then? Isn't that what the world is now? Selfishness? You could have just passed by me without a second thought. I could have been a walker, anything. Why did you help me?"

"I remembered you." he said softly. "From the line up. Negan wanted to take you with us, but I...stopped him." he trailed off.

"How?" you asked.

"I-" he paused, took a deep breath, then continued. "I told him to take someone else."

"Daryl?" you whispered. He nodded.

"I convinced him to take him instead, as a worker. Because Negan wanted you for himself...at first. I tried to fix it, but I made everything worse. But I feel like everything was worth it, because it meant saving you. I didn't mean to get you captured here, or for your friend to get taken instead, and I'm sorry you have to be stuck here with me." Dwight tried to lightly shove your hand away from his shoulder, but you left it there.

"I'm not stuck with you." you said. "I think we might be stuck with them." You looked over at the door, where the remaining Saviors loomed around every corner. You slowly started rubbing circles against Dwight's shoulder. His eyes shifted from the door to you, flinching away from your touch once he remembered. You weren't supposed to like him, you were _never_ going to like him. Even his _actual_ wife didn't like him. Even though he was ordered to marry you, it didn't mean you were supposed to like it. He'd never go through with it if that were the case, he'd never force you, not with a face like his.

"Don't-" Dwight stuttered, carefully grabbing you by the wrist as he brought your hand down to your lap. "You don't want anything to do with me, I get it. I don't blame you. But you don't have to pretend just because it might make your life here easier."

"I'm not-" you began.

"I mean it." Dwight said, as he stood up and faced you. "Don't do that to me. Don't act like you give a shit, I know you don't." You hopped off the bed and stared him straight in the eyes. You didn't want to take your frustration out on him, but he really wasn't giving you much of a choice.

"How do you know?" you asked, with a fury that you had been keeping dormant since you had arrived. "You've never once asked me how I feel. Not really. You just assume. Why? Because of _this_?" you asked, putting both hands under his jaw. "I'm not scared of you, I'm not disgusted by you, and I'm certainly not using you as an escape. You're the only person outside of my group that's shown me actual kindness, You've taken care of me, you keep on saving me, and you never once _had_ to. You're protecting me from him, because you know what kind of person he is, he's a fucking monster, Dwight." you cried, your hands slipping down to his shoulders. He reached up to take you by the wrists, with intention to push you away, but he keep his hands on top of yours. 

"Then that?" he asked, nearing his argumentative defeat. "What do you want?"

"I want out of here." you said, and he rolled his eyes and sighed, having already anticipated your answer, but you gripped down tighter on his shoulders. "I want you _to come with me_." Dwight looked down at you, the look in his eyes was telling you that _you were out of your goddamn mind._

"Yeah, good luck." he said, trying to pull back, but you wouldn't let him move.

"Why not?" you asked. "There's got to be a way."

"There isn't." he said. "Trust me, I tried." You dropped your head down and pulled your hands away from him. You walked back over to the bed and sat on the edge, feeling the defeat settling in.

"Never mind, then." you mumbled at him, your eyes cast to the floor. Dwight stayed still for a few seconds but was quick to sit beside you. He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close into his side.

"I can get you out," he said. "But _just_ you." You shook your head, ready to protest.

"No-"

"I got you here, I can get you out. But you have to trust me." Dwight stood up, took the dinner tray that he had come to retrieve and walked to the door. "Just trust me, okay?" he said, as he opened the door and left. You stayed on the edge of the bed, feeling even more defeated than before. You crawled back under the covers, suddenly not feeling well, and tried your best to fall asleep. You hated to admit that you were starting to like Dwight. At first you _had_ been trying to use him as an escape, but now you weren't so sure. You should hate him. You should hate him just as much as you hated Negan. But you couldn't. There was that look in his eyes that just flipped a switch in your head. If you were getting out of here, Dwight was going with you. But then a sudden thought hit you like a train.

Eugene was here with you, somewhere in this maze of rooms, and you had no idea where he was. You rolled over and faced the wall, trying to think about home while keeping your grief at bay.

You awoke at what you assumed was the next morning, by the sound of the door opening. Dwight had left it unlocked the night before, as he knew you wouldn't try to escape. You rolled over to see him setting down your breakfast tray, giving you a half smile when you turned.

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?" Dwight replied, as he went back to lock the door.

"Is Eugene here?" you asked. Dwight paused, he was abnormally silent, even for him.

"I can't talk about that." he said, as he sat down beside you on the bed. You crawled out from under the covers and leaned back against the pillows.

"Is he safe? Is he okay? That's all I'm asking." you begged. Dwight sighed.

"He's fine." he said. "Don't worry about him."

"Okay." you agreed.

"I'm getting you out of here today." Dwight said. You felt a jolt of hope in your chest as you looked up at him.

"Really?" you asked. "How?" Dwight shook his head.

"I don't know, not yet." he admitted. You sat up and crawled over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck from the side. You leaned your head against his and hugged him tightly. His hands flew up in instinct and held your arm closer to his collarbones.

"Thank you." you said. You moved your arm from his back and reached up to hold his jaw, turning him to look at you. Without hesitation, you pressed your lips softly to his. He flinched back, but you held him in place. You were determined to prove to him that you weren't using him, that you weren't scared or disgusted by him. You tried your hardest, but he just wasn't getting it. Your arms slipped around his neck and pulled him into your chest as you kissed him. His arms dropped dumbly down to his sides, slowly starting to kiss you back. You were careful not to accidentally touch his scar, in case the burn hadn't quite healed yet, you didn't want to hurt him. His hands eventually found their way to your sides, where he carefully slid them up your back to hold you closer.

"You should probably eat your breakfast." he mumbled against your lips, before quickly diving in for another kiss.

"But that means that you have to go." you whispered. Dwight smiled as he pulled away.

"You're right." he replied as he stood up. "I'll be back later, be ready, okay?" You nodded slowly as he walked over to the door. He gave you a solemn look before leaving. You didn't like that look, the desperation and hopelessness it carried. You felt sick to your stomach, but managed to eat anyway. You were going to need as much strength as possible if you wanted to make it out of here alive. 

The next and final time Dwight came back was only a few hours later. He rushed in, startling you in the process. He apologized swiftly as he took you by the arm and pulled you to your feet.

"Play along." he said quietly, as he led you to the open door. He hooked his arm around yours as you left the room for the first time since you had arrived. You stepped out into a long hallway, dark and dismal. You could feel the sorrow seeping through the walls, like they were about to start moving together until you were crushed in between them. Everything smelled like old chemicals and rot and you were certain that this place used to be a factory of some sort. It felt like the type of place where people came to die. Dwight brought you down several different corridors, each turn made you feel anxious, as if there were something horrifying around each corner. It was the same feeling you had as a kid, waiting for the Jack in the Box to pop up. Once the music was over, there was always the inevitable jump scare. You just knew that somewhere around one of these corners, that barbed-wire monstrosity was waiting for you. Your music would stop and that bitch would come crashing down on you, just like she did to the others. And that fucker with the evil grin would just keep on living, his music would never fucking stop.

"How much farther?" you whispered, as you came to a staircase.

"Not far." Dwight replied, as you both started down the steps. At the bottom, you eventually emerged into the main room. You both stepped up to the railing that overlooked the rest of the room. Many Saviors walked around, sweeping or attending to the furnace. You suddenly looked up at Dwight and then back to the red, burning furnace. Your heart dropped and you felt nauseous at the realization. You forced yourself to clear it from your mind as someone walked up beside you.

"Somebody got let outta their cage." a man smirked. You remembered him, from the RV, he's the one who kept blocking your path on the roads. He's the one from the line up. But you didn't know his name. Dwight pulled you closer, letting the arm around yours drop so that he could hold your hand.

"Hey, Simon." Dwight said, his kind tone suddenly disappeared as he spoke to this man. He was cold and gruff again, and it made you feel even worse inside. Simon looked you over, the look in his eyes was predatory and you felt like he could see right through you.

"She the wife?" Simon asked, pointing at you but looking at Dwight. Dwight nodded.

"Yeah. Boss said I could let her out, now that she's weakened down." Dwight lied. "She ain't going anywhere." Simon nodded smugly, his eyes flicking back over to you.

"Lucky _bastard_." Simon said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Gotta find me one like that." Simon slapped Dwight hard on the back as he walked deeper into the Sanctuary. You swallowed hard, relieved that he was gone. Dwight gripped your hand tighter, as a sign to just stay calm, he had everything under control. He walked you down the stairs until you were on the ground floor, surrounded by Saviors in every direction. Eyes and heads turned to glance at you, but since you were with such an important Savior such as Dwight, they all quickly looked away and went back to their tasks at hand.

"I'm gonna get you outside." Dwight whispered, almost so low that you could barely make him out. "Can you run?" You nodded slowly and subtly. You weren't sure how far you could go, but you were positive that you could sprint fast enough that they might not be able to catch you. Your legs felt strong, even thought the rest of you felt tired and defeated. Your mind was racing, everything was happening so fast and you couldn't keep up. All you knew was that when Dwight told you to run, you were going to fucking run. You just hoped that he'd be running along beside you. Before you knew it, Dwight had you outside, in an alley way where no one else seemed to be. It was dangerously deserted and Dwight pulled you along behind a row of trucks. There was a gate up ahead, the lock was missing, and beyond it there was only a small stretch of land that led into a forest of dark trees. Dwight pointed up at the gate.

"Which way?" you asked. "The forest?" He nodded.

"Go through the gate, and just run through until the trees stop. There's a road. The road signs will get you home." You felt a wave of panic wash over you. He wasn't coming.

"You have to go with me." you begged, trying to grab onto his sleeves. "They'll go off once they find out-"

"You let me worry about them." Dwight said. "Now go." He tried to shove you forward, like kicking a stray dog so it won't follow you home. You grasped onto his hand, holding him with the tightest grip you could manage.

"Will I ever see you again?" you asked, tears stinging at your eyes.

"Hopefully not, if you wanna live." he replied sadly, trying to sound tougher than he really felt, but was failing. You whimpered and grabbed him by the back of the neck, roughly pressing your lips to his. He sighed into the kiss, letting his frustration and disappointment out with his breath. He forced himself not to wrap you up in his arms, it was so tempting but for your safety, he pushed you away and shoved you towards the gate. You ran for it, throwing open the latch as you slipped out of Hell's reach. You were about to be sick again, but you built up as much adrenaline as you could and raced into the cover that the trees provided. You ducked into the bushes, receiving an abundance of cuts and scratches from the branches, only then did you look back, but only for a brief moment. You saw him on the other side, and your heart pounded sadly. You knew he'd eventually find his way back to Alexandria, for a supply pickup, but you'd never be able to touch him again. You felt the familiar stinging in your throat as the grief tore at you. But upon his instructions, you fled far into the forest, as fast as your now weak legs could take you. And when you emerged on the other side of the woods, the road signs did indeed lead you home. After a very long walk, you approached the Alexandria gates, with the map to the Sanctuary branded into your mind. You could lead the others to Eugene, you could help bring an end to this war. You just hoped that Dwight wouldn't be one of the casualties.


End file.
